


Cold Limbs

by taylor_tut



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Roy Mustang, Gen, Hurt Edward Elric, Hypothermia, Injury, Parental Roy, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 16:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: Ed waits out a blizzard, but his automail can't.





	Cold Limbs

“Goddamn kid,” Roy muttered, “he said he’d report back an hour ago.” 

Riza smiled knowingly. “You know how he is, Sir. He probably got caught up in the library, waiting out the blizzard.” The snow was still falling, but not nearly as severely as it had been earlier, and if he were being honest, he was a little relieved at the thought that Ed had the good sense to wait out the storm rather than walking through it.

“Well, now we’ve got to go after him, and it’s a waste of my time.” 

“Technically, you don’t  _have_  to go after him,” she pointed out. “It’s not an official military responsibility.”

“No, but Alfons will be in my office fretting until we bring Fullmetal’s truant ass back, so this is less painful.” He rubbed at his ears, which were beginning to ache with the cold air of winter. “Slightly.” Riza rolled her eyes affectionately–ah, the lengths he’d go to admit he cared for Ed.

“Sir, do you see that?” 

“What?” Roy asked, but then his eyes locked onto what she was talking about–a spot of red through the waning blizzard. “Oh, shit.” He picked up the pace, walking fast toward the figure and questioning how good Ed’s sense really was. 

Of course he was in a goddamned phone booth. It was a good place to wait out the wind and a good setting to make Roy’s heart stop. He hesitated for only a second before running.

When they opened the door of the phone booth, Ed was slumped against the wall, half-incoherent but conscious.

“Major, what happened?” Riza asked, “are you alright?”

Ed nodded, but it was listless and unconvincing. “Got tired,” was all he could manage. 

“You were waiting out the storm in here?” Roy asked, frowning. “Were you on your way from the library?” Ed nodded again. Well, fuck. The library was blocks away.

Riza reached out and pressed a hand to Ed’s cheek, then to his flesh arm, then to his metal one and recoiled. 

“I think he’s hypothermic,” she explained, “and his automail is freezing.” 

Quickly, Mustang gathered Ed in his arms, cursing under the weight–how was a kid so small so heavy??–and dragged him to the military car that was waiting for them.

Inside, he and Riza took off Ed’s coat, damp with snow. Roy rubbed his hands together and began to work them around the automail, up and down the arm until it felt like it wouldn’t give the boy frostbite.

“I’ve got to do the same to your leg,” he explained, biting his lip when there was no quip about being a “perverted bastard.” He tried just rolling up the pant leg, but the damned leather pants were too tight for that, so he swallowed some pride and hoped Ed wouldn’t remember him taking off his pants later.

It took several minutes of intense focus, but finally Ed’s shivering began to die down just a bit, and the skin around the automail port started to look less red. 

“C-colonel Bastard? Lieutenant?” he managed through chattering teeth. “Where the hell’re my pants? Don’t tell me you–perverted bastard!”

Roy breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re gonna be okay, kid.”


End file.
